


where dean is sick and aidan takes care of him

by ocaptainrogers



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Fluff, It's 3AM, M/M, Sick!Dean, aidan takes care of him, and hiding under duvets and blanket when one's sick, and im tired as hell, dean is sick, nose kisses, one is never too old for blanket forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 19:10:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocaptainrogers/pseuds/ocaptainrogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Aidean where one is sick and the other is all caring and stuff</p>
            </blockquote>





	where dean is sick and aidan takes care of him

[my tumblr](http://bomburs-butt.tumblr.com/)

 

 

“If I’d known you were such a baby I woulda thought twice about-,”

“No, you wouldn’t,” comes the interruption in a slurry, tired voice, muffled by blankets and pillows and duvets.

Aidan rolls his eyes to empathize his point in the matter, even if he’s the only one who can actually see it, but can’t fight off the grin for very long and goes to fetch Dean his _third_ cup of chamomile tea in forty minutes.

“Yer lucky yer adorable,” he mutters and gets off the bed. He walks the short distance from the bedroom to the kitchen in their tiny apartment and refills Dean’s cup. He discovers that they’re almost out of tea as he opens the cabinet over the sink and hopes his sick boyfriend isn’t going to want more after this cup, or else he might have to deliver the sad message of their tea-less-ness in the poor state Dean’s in. Is that even a word? Aidan shrugs; it is now, and adds it to his mental dictionary of words he’s come up with.

Three minutes, two sugars and a drop of milk later he’s walking back into their bedroom where Dean is laying in a fetal position under every single piece of blanket, duvet and pillow they could find. Which wasn’t a lot, but enough to make very nice looking blanket forts; blanket forts only they can know about, they’re grown men for Christ’s sake.

Aidan shuffles in balancing the cup of tea, a bottle of pain killers and an apple for himself in one hand and another pillow he found on the couch in the other; because, you know, there can never be enough pillows.

“Here ya go, love,” he says and puts the cup down on the nightstand. He pauses and looks for a place to sit and since he doesn’t want to disturb Dean any more that strictly necessary, he sits down in the chair they tossed in there when they first moved in. Its use is now that of a wardrobe of sorts, so it’s a bit hard to find a comfortable position in it. He doesn’t want to leave Dean alone in here though, so it will just have to do.

The soft mountain on the bed moves and through a hole that slowly opens at one end emerges a ruffle-haired head. There’s a low groan that might sound like a ‘thank you’ before an arm suddenly shoots out from underneath the red quilt Aidan’s grandmother made, fumbling along the edge of the nightstand before it comes in touch with the mug.

Aidan is torn between hiding his laugh and helping his boyfriend to a sip of his tea, but he just got comfortable in his chair. He watches with light fascination as the hand, with the cup still in it, slowly retreats into the pile of soft things that is doing a pretty good job of hiding the person underneath. One would’ve thought it was only a heap of dirty laundry that somehow made it onto the bed, but no, there’s an ill person in there. A 37 year old ill person.

Aidan can barely hear the slurping sound of Dean taking a sip before the naked arm returns the cup to its former place. The heap moves for a couple of moments before it goes still. Aidan blinks and waits until he can’t take the silence anymore. “Anythin’ else ya need?”

There’s movement - reminding Aidan of the rabbit he had growing up that kept burying itself under all the hay in the cage – before a hole opens up again, only this time there’s a face in it. A sweaty, pink and puffy face with a leaky nose and red eyes. Dean sniffles and blinks against the brightness in the room, “Wha’?”

Aidan just smiles, forcing Dean to ask again only to end up with another coughing fit. It sounds like his throat is getting shredded every time he coughs; a sick wet sound that sends uncomfortable chills down Aidan’s spine.

He gets up from the chair, walks around the bed and lies down on his stomach across it so his face can be as close to Dean’s as he’s comfortable with. Dean’s face immediately softens, but that might also be the tiredness kicking in again. “Is there anything else ya need,” he asks again and sneaks one hand in under the duvets, trying to find Dean’s.

Dean sneezes, but this time he has the common sense to do it into the mattress and not spray it onto Aidan’s face as he’d done earlier that day. He coughs a few times before his throat settles and he looks at Aidan with so much adoration that Aidan feels his own cheeks get a bit warm. “I’d love for you to join me.”

Aidan blinks at the face surrounded by the grandmother-quilt. “You want me to come into that … that oven with you?” it’s not that he would mind much - it’s just that he hates getting warm and clammy and feeling like he can’t breathe.

“What?” Dean rasps and sniffles. Aidan pulls a tissue out of the box on the floor by the bed and hands him one and cringes at the noise Dean makes as he blows his nose.

“And my favorite pastime is to kiss that face,” he mutters to himself, but it comes out fond and affectionate, and he’s glad Dean’s too busy sounding like a dying cow to hear.

“Afraid you get sick? You’re the one who infected me with this shit to begin with,” Dean accuses and folds up the tissue before tossing it to the floor in some strange show of protest, maybe, or he just can’t bother to look for the trashcan.

Aidan lets out a nervous laugh and gives Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that, love.”

Dean’ smiles back the best he can and is about to say something back, but then he gets hit with another coughing fit.

Aidan winces and crawls closer to the end of the bed and the nightstand to get the tea. Fortunately it’s still hot. He hands it to Dean and moves his hand back in under the blankets to grab hold of Dean’s.

Dean takes it and manages to take a few sips in between coughs, exhaling in relief when it starts working and the hacking stops. “Thank you, darling.”

Aidan leans in to press a kiss to his nose as he takes the mug and puts it back. “D’ya need another pill? Some food? Anything?” he asks and moves closer, contemplating on whether or not he’s actually going to join his boyfriend under all those things or lie beside the bundle instead.

“No, thank you,” comes Dean’s weak reply. “Would love for you to come a bit closer, though.”

Aidan’s left thinking as Dean’s head slinks back into the darkness, their hands still locked together, resting against Dean’s chest.

It takes no more than a couple of moments before Aidan retracts his hand, ignoring the disappointed sound from Dean as he gets off the bed to toss his sweater and pants off. Once he’s down to his wife beater and boxers he crawls back onto the mattress and slides in under the blankets.

Dean hums in approval and presses back against Aidan’s chest when he loops his arms around Dean. He kisses the back of Dean’s neck and pushes one of his legs in between the other’s. He pulls the covers down until only the top half of their faces are in the open and rubs his nose against the sensitive skin behind Dean’s ear, earning a shiver from the man in question.

Just as he’s about to fall asleep, this whole being buried in warm things deal gets him sleepy, Dean turns his head around as far as it goes and gently strokes his thumb over Aidan’s hand. “You’re good at taking care of me.”

Aidan clears his throat and thinks he’s too old to be blushing over something like that; he nods and presses his lips to Dean’s shoulders in thanks. “Shush. I love takin’ care of you.”

Dean offers a barely audible huff and smiles, “Thank you.”

“Mmm,” is Aidan’s only response to that before he tries to snuggle closer and rests his forehead against the back of Dean’s head. They both fall asleep within minutes.


End file.
